No matter how you describe intense cold, it comes off sounding clich\u00e9, but there was nothing clich\u00e9 about this week’s cold. Digging our way out of layer upon layer of woolly, fleecy, and downy insulation, we shared stories of blowing bubbles that turned hard, watching boiling water turn instantly into ice and steam when thrown into the air, and school buses stranded by their gummy bio-diesel. It felt like a quiet carnival had come and infused our everyday lives with its exotic attractions.<\/p>\n
But it wasn’t all fun and games. Highways, bedecked in black ice, clogged with crashes day in and day out. A sleepwalker died in this most un-clich\u00e9 cold.<\/p>\n
As the cold settled into my neck and fingers and thighs, restricted my comings and goings, cocooned me within sparkling but unrelentingly dense frost at every window, and sipped my still-fragile stores of energy dry, I remembered that I’m not prone to sleep walking.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
No matter how you describe intense cold, it comes off sounding clich\u00e9, but there was nothing clich\u00e9 about this week’s cold. Digging our way out of layer upon layer of woolly, fleecy, and downy insulation, we shared stories of blowing bubbles that turned hard, watching boiling water turn instantly into ice and steam when thrown … Continue reading Dark Carnival<\/span>